


Of zoos, paintings, and debts.

by Fleur_de_Violette



Series: Whumptober (more like hurt/comfortober-november-december) 2020 [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Broken Bones, Damian Wayne is a good brother, Drawing, Fluff, Gen, He is trying, Hurt Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, Well - Freeform, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27351739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fleur_de_Violette/pseuds/Fleur_de_Violette
Summary: Most of the time, Tim thought before he acted. But when he saw the guy swinging a hammer at an unsuspecting Robin, he just acted. He didn’t think of the consequences on his arm, or on the WE event he had the next day, for that matter.Whumptober day 12: Broken Bones
Relationships: Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Series: Whumptober (more like hurt/comfortober-november-december) 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984960
Comments: 6
Kudos: 342





	Of zoos, paintings, and debts.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Here is a small Tim and Damian bonding fic. This story is strongly inspired by that one person who drew Starry night on their mom’s cast. I don’t remember where it was from at all, but this story was super wholesome. So here we are. Hope you’ll enjoy the story!

Tim always considered himself a quick thinker. He could find his way out of a situation or a mystery in record time. Among the capped community, he was one the hero who relied the least on instinct. 

But he was a vigilante, he was a Bat, and he was a Robin.

And sometimes, when you’re a Robin, you don’t think, you act. 

So when he saw the big guy weaving what looked like a hammer to an unsuspecting Robin, he didn’t think. He acted. He jumped between the two, blocking the bow with his staff. 

Strangely, before the fear, the first thing he felt when his boo staff shattered under the pressure of the attack, was awe. 

Because he had made this thing personally, with help from Lucius and Harper, and he knew exactly how much pressure it could handle. Witch was a lot. 

But he didn’t have time to think about Damian’s brain redecorating the floor if he hadn’t been there, he didn’t have time to think about the sinister crack that followed the destruction of his staff, about how the thing just after was his left arm. 

Because it was time to act, so he took a teaser out of his belt and mercilessly electrocuted his enemy, putting him out cold. 

Then he could breathe, evaluate the situation. Then he could think. 

Robin was looking at him with big eyes, and the first thing he tough, with a protectiveness he knew he had, but he didn’t know he had for Damian, was _thank God the kid is safe._

The second was that, yeah, his left arm was definitely broken. But before the pain, before the fear of a bad break, of permanent damage, he thought about the big WE event he had on the next day. About how hard he was working so hard to gain the respect of the older investors and how a cast would not help his credibility. 

But soon, such thoughts were relayed to the background as the men charged at them again, and he fought, back to back with Damian, ignoring the throbbing pain in his arm.

It was when all the men were tied up, and the police called that he remembered the pain, protecting his left arm with the right. Batman walked to him. 

“How bad?” 

Tim stiffened. 

“Broken. It was just next to my staff when it was hit.” 

Batman grunted. Looked at the staff on the ground, then at Red Robin. Made a decision.

“Get in the Batmobile, I’m taking you to the clinic. Robin, take his bike back to the cave.” 

Tim felt a childish feeling of not wanting Damian to touch his stuff building in his chest. 

“It has autopilot.” 

Bruce looked at him with surprise. 

“Do you want Robin to come with us at the clinic?” 

Damian looked at him with a smug face. Tim hadn’t thought that through. He sighed, accepting, before getting into the Batmobile. 

“Don’t worry Drake, I won’t _crash_ your bike.” He heard as he closed the door. 

* * *

Bruce shadowed him the entire stay at the clinic. Tim knew that was to ensure the security of their identity, as well as in a weird sense of worry, but in annoyed him. It didn’t help that his arm was hurting, that he was tired, and that he couldn’t help but think about the WE event. Usually, these things didn’t stress him out too much, but tonight was different somehow. 

He felt like a child and Bruce babying him was not helping. He almost snapped when he realized Bruce wasn’t getting him back to his apartment, but to the manor. 

“I can take care of myself.” It sounded petulant even to his own ears. Bruce sighed. 

“I’m sure you can, but it would be easier for you to be at the manor. Plus, Alfred can drive you to WE in the morning.” 

Tim opened his mouth to argue, before closing it. Arguing about not letting Alfred take care of him was the childish thing, he realized. Bruce was right. Not having to cook and clean and drive with a broken arm was a plus. The most mature decision was to stay at the manor. He rested his head on the glass of the Batmobile. The meds Leslie gave him were starting to act, and he was too tired to argue. 

He found out a few hours later, after tossing and turning in his bed, that he was too tired to argue, but not enough to fall asleep. 

Fuck. Going to the event with a cast and black bags under his eyes wasn’t going to be good on his reputation. But there was no sense in just lying there and do nothing, so he got up and went to the kitchen. 

He made herbal tea and took his laptop to go down the list of the gests. He looked at a few websites, read some abstracts for the academics that were gonna be there. Thought about who would be the more profitable for a partnership, not only in terms of science but also of public opinion.

He almost jumped when he heard Damian enters. Almost. The kid was wearing white pajamas, without a fold and perfectly adjusted. It contrasted with Tim’s old Superboy shirt and sweatpants. 

“What do you want?” He asked, maybe a little too harshly. After all, the kid hadn’t done anything. Yet. 

Damian tutted and made his way to the kitchen, getting an herbal tea for himself. 

“You’re not the only one who has trouble sleeping.” 

Tim felt bad for a second. He hesitated about what to say first. Asking Damian if he was having nightmares seemed like the wrong thing to say, somehow. He settled for small talk. 

“Do you have anything planned for today?” 

Damian took a sip of his tea. 

“Pennyworth is taking me to the zoo this afternoon.” 

He was… very exited and enthusiast about the event, Tim guessed. Damian’s feelings were transmitted by micro-expressions. He looked like Bruce in that regard. Tim wasn’t fluent in Damian-reading yet (Dick was, Cass was, and he was pretty sure Steph was close to be) but that the zoo was something he liked wasn’t a secret. That didn’t explain the insomnia then. 

After a while Damian said, very fast. 

“You saved my life tonight.” 

Oh, so that was the problem. Tim could guess coming close to death could be traumatic, even for baby assassins. He tried not to make a big deal out of it. 

“Yeah, well I’m gonna look stupid tomorrow because of it.” 

Damian frowned. 

“Why are you going to look stupid? More than usual I mean.” 

Tim sighed, too used to the attacks to even note it. 

“The cast. It seems weird to go to a scientific event with a cast when you’re the organizer.” 

The kid still didn’t seem to understand. 

“Is that because it’s ugly?” 

Tim nearly split his tea. 

“I’m pretty sure Leslie won’t appreciate you calling her work ugly.” 

Damian shrugged. 

“It’s a cast, it’s ugly when plain. Hold on.” 

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Tim confused on the couch. He was back a few minutes later with a paint palette.

“Give me your arm.” He asked.

Tim blinked. 

“I swear to God, Damian, if you write profanities on my cast, I’ll make sure you won’t go to the zoo anytime in your life.” 

The kid seemed insulted. 

“I’m not going to write profanities on your cast. Now give me your arm.”

Reluctantly, Tim obeyed. And waited as Damian started to work on his cast. 

After a while, he looked at the kid and saw his work. 

That was actually beautiful. Damian took his time to draw, brows frowned as he focused. 

“Why are you doing that?” Asked Tim. He hadn’t thought Damian would do anything nice for him, let alone willingly. 

“I’m not one to leave my debts unpaid.” Was the only answer he got.

Tim hummed. Let the sound of the brush calm him down. Eventually, he closed his eyes. 

When he woke up, Damian was gone. There was a blanket on his chest, and an artist’s view of Gotham at night on his cast. 

Tim blinked. 

Maybe, just maybe, if the event went well, he would stop by the zoo this afternoon. To say his thanks. 

To mend a relationship. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked the story ! Have a nice day !


End file.
